The Edge of Hope is the debut novel of writer Alina Popescu, the first book in the Bad Blood Trilogy, a story of vampires, love, struggles, and a constant fight for survival.

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Okay–he’s gorgeous. Those green eyes are compelling. What’s not to love?

Have a look at the Cliff’s notes, a.k.a. book blurb, and judge for yourself:

When tall, dark, and gorgeous shows up on your self-prescribed emotional recovery vacation, some would call it fate smiling down on you. If he also happens to be interested in your work and ready to make all the room you need in his life, it starts to sound too good to be true. Alexa skips the doubts and jumps right in, only to be thrown into the mysterious world of vampires.

The secrets of their origin and their very existence are far more important than her life to some of her new acquaintances. They are ancient, they are powerful, they have unlimited resources, and they are keen on controlling what the world knows of their kind. As Alexa discovers their complicated, blood feud bound world, she tries to better understand herself, heal old wounds and give love chance after chance. Will she survive the journey?

…what? Oh! Right–what was I doing? Right–blogging about “The Edge of Hope”.

Hmmm–undecided (but those eyes…). Let’s delve into a bite (ha ha) from the book:

He gently helped me get dressed and the more he touched me, the more I felt safe around him. So safe that, for a moment, I forgot how weak I was and, as I completely lacked the needed power to hold myself up, I nearly fell. He caught me and held me tightly in his arms. My internal dam gave in at that precise moment and I really started to cry. Not just tears casually flowing, but anger and pain making their way out through my eyes and mouth.

“It will be all right. Don’t worry,” I heard him whisper, but I had a really hard time believing it.

Exorcising part of what was making my soul and mind rumble helped me regain a bit of my strength so I slowly nodded when he asked if I could walk. I was taking the steps, but he was still supporting most of the process. We went down the stairs, but instead of going through the club, we went outside through another door, some kind of service entrance. There were a few cars parked out back. He got me into the back seat of a Honda Civic. I couldn’t tell what color it was.

Just when he was about to get in the car, Anthony appeared out of nowhere right next to him. I instinctively moved to the farthest point from him I could possibly squeeze into.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, a touch of anger in his voice.

“Anthony, I can’t really help if you’re never careful enough and leave girls in a state of shock. Be more careful next time,” his friend scolded him.

“What’s the point if you can’t go all wild and enjoy their helplessness? That just diminishes the pleasure,” Anthony said and shrugged. I felt a surge of anger, but fear quickly overpowered it when his gaze met mine.

“The point is she can stay out and play longer, but you have a horde more inside so I get it. Now I need to take her to your place and clean up your mess… again!” I didn’t really know him, but even I could sense the disgust in his tone.

“Fine, have it your way. I won’t be going there for a few days. I need to keep her alive and I am sure you can guess how tempting her blood is. Keep an eye on her. I don’t want sweet Alexa getting any ideas and making me chase her around Europe.”

He turned on his heels and left. Apparently, he had no need to wait for any form of consent.

I finally relaxed when the car drove off and I could feel the distance growing between me and Anthony. The car was very warm and I allowed myself to lie down on the seat and close my eyes.

I woke up as I was being carried inside. I looked up at him and he was smiling warmly. I wanted to smile back, but I could feel that my face wasn’t moving. He placed me on the big sofa in the living room and covered me with a blanket he had brought in from a different room. He stepped into the kitchen and I could hear drawers and cabinets being opened and closed, and then the microwave opened. He came in ten minutes later with a big bowl of steaming liquid.

“Here, drink this. And drink it all,” he ordered.

It was a thick soup that didn’t look or smell half bad so I ventured and took a sip.

“Easy, it’s really hot,” he said, jumping from his armchair.

“Don’t worry,” I said in a barely audible voice. I had always had an abnormal tolerance to hot liquids. When I could finally taste it, I frowned and forced myself to swallow. It had a metallic aftertaste, as if he had mixed iron dust in it.

“God, this is awful!” I complained.

“Just drink it. You’ll thank me in the morning.” He winked and gave my shoulder a little squeeze. He stayed with me, giving me an occasional nudge to make sure I kept drinking. He kept shifting and frowning, even after I showed him the empty bowl.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, annoyed by his overbearing care.

“You’re very weak. You almost passed out three times while drinking this.”

“I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” I really hadn’t. I didn’t feel anything, neither light-headed nor sleepy, so it came as a surprise.

“Well, you managed to drink it all. Now you’ll get some sleep and you should be fine.” He tried a smile to reassure me, but it wasn’t really working.

“What’s your name?” I asked. I probably was feeling better if I had realized we had never been introduced

“Louis,” he said, taking the bowl from my hands and tucking me in.

“Thank you, Louis. And nice to meet you…sort of.”

“Go to sleep, Alexa. And you’re welcome.”

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Oh my…..I, uh, think I’m…allergic to soup….yikes!

This sounds like a terrific addition to that paranormal-romance TBR pile! Here are some places to find it:

I’m glad I had the chance to be on this blog tour. And now a word from our author:

Faster, easier, within reach – Authors and books of the social media age

Remember those times when you had to wait for years to get a new book from the author you loved? Or when you had to chase them down to a book signing event to get to say a giggly hello and mumble your name in five seconds? Or how you had no real chance of getting a signed copy if said author was from a different country? Me too, and it sucked, didn’t it?

Right now, all you have to do to get to know more about an author you love is google them. You’ll find their website, their twitter, their Facebook page. You might even befriend them and get to chat with them, interview them for your blog, order a signed copy or even get an e-signature on your ebook! It’s fun, it’s exciting, it makes you feel like authors are not just people you worship, but also your friends.

The other cool part is that books come out a lot faster these days. Indies publish a few books each year, publishers give in to what the fans need and release book after book for all popular series. It’s like we have no patience and when you hear you have to wait a few months for the next book, you want to strangle somebody.

It’s understandable, books compete with movies and TV series, and we all know how many of those are released in a year and how much we suffer when we have to wait for the next season. Especially when there’s a cliffhanger, which is usually the case with all series.

The plus side? More books to read, more interaction with authors and quick, direct feedback for them. The downside? Yes, there is one! We lose our patience quickly and we have to deal with so many cliffhangers, having one in a book drives us nuts. The pressure of getting the next book out, and do so fast, is also quite a stress factor for everyone. Let’s face it, if quality takes a hit, no one will love it. The other major downside is the lack of privacy for authors. We are all expected to be online and interact with fans. If we don’t, well, that’s not good, is it?

There is also the big, bad elephant in the room: bullying. It’s easy to say what you want, do it pretty much anonymously, and have no consequences to worry about. I didn’t mention this earlier because it’s not specific to writers and readers, it’s just one of the ugly things the Internet made room for.

Considering the good and the bad, would anyone want to go back to times when authors were untouchable? I wouldn’t! I love the interaction, I still consider the authors I love superhuman, and want to be in the in crowd. Would you like anything to be different?